


Home

by Systemic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys Kissing, Covid Times 2020, Drabble, Established Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Firefighter Sawamura Daichi, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Post-Canon, Teacher Sugawara Koushi, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27420997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Systemic/pseuds/Systemic
Summary: Daichi comes home to his partner Suga, who is working remotely in May of 2020.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 104





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by this [HECKIN’ GREAT illustration](https://twitter.com/sticki_notes/status/1324154047050387456) that made me very happy and gave me very soft feelings. 
> 
> It feels weird to have reference materials for a fic AND YET… ((´∀`;))  
> -This is the folktale that is referenced in the body of the work, which I recommend reading first? It’s short, I promise.  
> [Nezumi no Yomeiri](http://japanfolklore.blogspot.com/2008/08/nezumi-no-yomeiri-mouses-marriage.html)  
> -And this is the folk dance mentioned, which can be watched before or after, I think. The music is really good but also LOUD, fair warning. [Suzume Odori Dance](https://youtu.be/Wt2dbaVCF-k)
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy. Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/SystemicWrites) maybe.

Sawamura Daichi was tired. This was not unusual after waking up at four in the morning for an early shift at the firehouse. Some days were worse than others, obviously - there were times when disasters happened or tragedy struck and the day felt like it had stretched into a month, the emotional weight adding more to the depletion of spirit than the physical aspect of the job. Even on days that went smoothly, the shift was still a rough one. He was ready to go home and take a nap. 

_Home_. It had meant different things over the years, but in 2020 it meant a small house in a little town near Sendai, sandwiched in between a row of buildings on either side that were almost exactly the same. No matter how similar the ceramic beige siding on it was to the carbon copy done in pink on the right or white on the left, Daichi’s was different. A person who hadn’t lived there probably wouldn’t understand it. They wouldn’t feel it if they hadn’t spent time inside the low wall that surrounded the property or unlocked the gate at the end of a long day. The air wouldn’t have felt cleaner in the garden if they hadn’t tended it themselves, purified by greenery he had watched grow from earth he had sunk his hands into on long weekends. 

But Daichi understood. 

He closed the gate behind him and stood on the front path with his hands at his sides and his bag slung over his shoulder. The beauty of the dogwood tree beside the house hit him as it did when it bloomed every spring; its white flowers caught the light as they shifted in the breeze, framed by the blue sky far above. A birdsong drifted from the next plot of land over. Clouds passed lazily in front of the sun. 

Daichi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the warmth of spring wash over his weary face while the wind pulled at the t-shirt clinging to him. His jacket had been hung through the strap of his duffel in the unseasonable heat and the feeling of air rushing over his skin made him shiver, though it wasn’t unpleasant. The sound of traffic faded away and he was left in the early afternoon quiet in his garden, embracing with every slow, deep breath what set his home apart from all the others on the street. 

When he had been all but absolved of the weariness of the world, a gently satisfied smile passed over his lips and he reached into his pocket to retrieve his keyring. The dark front door stood out in contrast to the pale siding on the house, broken up by thin panels made of fogged glass; it opened with a soft _click_ and he made sure to stay hushed as he shut and locked it behind him. His shoes were toed off to be replaced by a pair of grey house slippers before he shuffled around the corner towards the kitchen.

While he went to the fridge to get a glass of something cold, he listened to the voice that was filtering in from the family room across the hall. A door made primarily of fogged glass obstructed his view, but he could just barely make out the shapes of the posters hung up on the far wall, done in pale shades of pink and minty green and covered in blocky text that he knew from memory. He had watched the kanji and hiragana be cut out of colorful paper while the person doing the crafting had discussed with enthusiasm the ways in which online learning could still be _fun_. That same voice was talking animatedly and though it was a bit muffled, it still made him smile around his glass of green tea, warmed by the sound of Suga just as he had been by the sunlight. 

Daichi refilled his glass and poured a second before stowing the bottle back in the fridge. Both were carried (carefully) across the hall and he paused to examine the handle of the door and the problems presented by his full hands. A pair of fingers now accustomed to this exact movement extended to depress the brass lever until his shoulder could nudge the barrier aside; it skidded along the plush carpet of what had once been a family room - and still was, he supposed, in its own way. 

The tv had been moved from the far wall, now situated somewhat awkwardly to his left just past where the door swung open, making room for the posters and a standing easel. The sofa had been shifted from its usual position to join them, low and upholstered in a dark purple that ‘went with the drapes,’ or so he had been told. He didn’t see it, personally, but he wasn’t really looking at the couch; the person sitting on it had his full and undivided attention. 

Behind a laptop on a repurposed folding table was situated a man in his late twenties with a face that Sawamura Daichi knew intimately. He could have mapped each curve and contour with his eyes closed, from the slight point of the chin to the beauty mark beside one of those bright, hazel-brown eyes, the ones that sparkled when their owner was as engaged as he was at the time. A soft blue sweater unbuttoned over top of a pale purple t-shirt complimented his silver hair (which Daichi knew to be just as soft as the sweater) and pajama pants had been foregone for light-wash grey jeans instead. The puppy socks that sat together against the salmon-colored carpet made his eyes crinkle with fondness, his gaze going half-lidded as he considered the idea of _home._

When he lifted his eyes again, he found a look of amusement being suppressed on Sugawara Kōshi’s face, his lips twisting just slightly down at the corners of his smile in an attempt to keep any laughter from slipping past. He was glancing back and forth between Daichi and the picture book he was holding, trying not to focus on him for too long lest he lose the attention of the other people on his Zoom call. It wasn’t really fair, watching him like that while he was trying to work, but all the firefighter could feel while he listened to the retelling of Nezumi no Yomeiri was warmth, filling up his chest and pouring into the rest of him with every breath. There sat the warmth of spring, of dogwood blossoms and soft wind and sunshine, right in his family room. 

He leaned against the doorframe for a while, the heaviness of his limbs and eyelids forgotten, and just listened. He listened to the voice he never got tired of and watched emphatic hand gestures that accompanied the description of Mr. Sun, big sweeps of his arms; Mr. Cloud made him have to curl his lips in to keep from laughing as Suga puffed up his cheeks and pitched his voice lower, eyes and brows all squinched up for emphasis. The giggling that came quietly out of his speakers could be easily identified with. Mr. Wall was mimicked by a straightening of posture and squaring of shoulders, making a slender frame just a little bit wider for dramatic effect. 

When the climax of the story arrived, he watched Kōshi’s face soften into an expression that made his own smile wide and warm, eyelids weighted with affection. It was one he treasured, one he wanted to see again and again, every day if he could ever be so lucky. The happy ending was reached and he listened to the applause of two dozen children that had been just as rapt as he had, but for very different reasons. Suga stood up and gave two theatrical little bows at the waist before sitting down, shooting Daichi a look that _wanted_ to be irritated, though it achieved nothing of the sort. He only grinned in return, amusement restrained but obvious, and stepped forward to set down the fresh glass of tea on the table just out of view of the camera.

 _Thank you,_ Suga mouthed, and Daichi didn’t get a chance to respond before a little girl’s voice punched through the dampened sound of her classmates, asking who her teacher was talking to. 

“Mr. Daichi just got here, everyone. He’s being very rude and interrupting class. Can you all say hi?” The put-on irritation didn’t seem to matter when his smile was so wide and it only got bigger when his entire class greeted Daichi _very loudly._ The man himself winced at the volume and Suga stifled a laugh behind a sip of tea. 

“Is Mr. Daichi going to talk to us about firefighting today?” Another voice asked and Suga shook his head. 

“Not today, Kōta. Mr. Daichi just finished a very long day at the firehouse, so I think he wants to rest for a while.” 

There was a communal outburst of disappointment while Daichi bowed his head out of view, free hand gesturing along in thanks while the other was occupied by his cup. He wandered back over to the armchair against the opposite wall and took a seat so he could listen while the lesson started again. Flashcards were retrieved from a box under the table, kanji and hiragana printed on each one, and the children took turns calling out corresponding words as the cards were cycled through. 

Next came craft time. Suga pulled out colorful pieces of paper with which to demonstrate different origami patterns. The instruction would stop and start again whenever a student needed help and he repeated himself several times until the end of the lesson, at which point he had about ten shapes littered around his computer. He never stopped smiling, not even when he had to squint really hard to examine a student’s project, the resulting scrunched expression forcing a stifled chuckle out of his partner's chest.

Daichi watched with unparalleled affection as the shapes were picked up, each a different iteration of an animal’s silhouette that were placed on the tip of one of Suga’s fingers before he waved them at his webcam. A chorus of laughter bubbled out of the speakers in response. When everyone had finished drawing faces on their finger puppets, they took turns assigning funny voices to them and sharing made-up conversations with their classmates. 

The end of school came more quickly than anyone seemed to want. Several of them whined in dismay when they were told to straighten up their areas and reminded of the homework - meager as it was - before they all said goodbye for the day. When the call had ended and the laptop was closed, Suga flung himself dramatically across the couch, one wrist pressed to his forehead and the other arm thrown backwards, and heaved a sigh that was much too heavy to be genuine. 

Daichi spent the few moments he could get away with simply looking. He examined the way the sun filtered in through the window and lit the side of Kōshi’s face, watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. His eyes wandered along features that smiled even when they were at rest, even after a day of doing nothing but smiling when they were entitled to look exhausted instead. 

“That bad?” he asked after a while and got a hum in response. It was another few seconds before hazel-brown eyes flickered open to look at him, amusement in their gaze. 

“No,” Kōshi sighed, wistful. “I just miss them.” 

“You just got off the call with them.”

“It’s not the same.” His eyes slouched and his lips turned down into a pout that was only halfway exaggerated; Daichi felt both halves in his chest. “It’s more fun being together.” 

“They sounded like they were having fun.” 

Light came back into Suga’s expression, delight shining through a smile so wide it rounded out the apples of his cheeks. 

“They did, didn’t they?” The pride in his voice did not go unnoticed. “I think they really like the folktales. Oh!” Fatigue apparently gone, he hauled himself into a sitting position, his feet bouncing in place with excitement. “Did I tell you I’m teaching them a folk dance next week?”

“A folk dance?” 

“Yeah! Suzume Odori.” 

“Wh-- But doesn’t that need a whole group?” 

“Well yeah, they were supposed to learn it in person but since they _can’t,_ we’re doing a sort of modified version through webcams. The Aoba Festival probably isn’t happening this year, so we’re going to watch old recordings so that they can see the costumes and steps, and-- oh! Here, look--” Kōshi jumped off the couch and went into a box at the far end of it, rummaging through the teaching aids that he had been doing an admirable job of keeping put away. From within he pulled out a pair of fans that were indigo on one side and golden orange on the other, constructed by hand out of craft paper. 

“I made them all little kits, so they each get the paper and a headband, and we’re going to make the fans together! And I can’t teach them _all_ the steps obviously, but then--” Suga’s explanation only got more animated the longer it went on. He didn’t go so far as turning on the music, but still recounted the chants that went along with the movements. His feet hopped and skipped and while he may not have moved with as much _finesse_ as the groups who typically performed at the festival, his enthusiasm made it impossible not to enjoy. The dance itself was familiar because Daichi had seen it every year growing up, though admittedly not broken into pieces, but it was made fresh and new because of who he was watching perform. 

The smile never left either of their faces.

  
When he finished the demonstration he was flushed and breathless and Daichi immediately applauded, laughing from his belly when Kōshi gave a dramatic bow, fans in hand. The smaller man huffed his way over and plopped into his firefighter’s lap - eliciting a soft _oof_ when he did - and took a deep, centering breath when strong arms wrapped around his slight frame and held him sideways against a chest that felt firm and safe. Breath tickled against his ear when lips pressed against his temple.

“I gotta say, the explanation was even better with the visual aid.” Daichi murmured against him and Suga tilted his head away to look up. 

“What?” 

“The explanation. It’s better with the dance.” 

“Did I tell you about it already?” 

“Kō, I was there when you made the fans.”

“Daichi! Why didn’t you _stop_ me?!” Suga demanded, playfully aghast. 

“Then I wouldn’t have gotten to see the dance.” Daichi pointed out and then his grin went wide and cheeky and his partner blushed in his arms, trying not to let his own smirk show through his attempt at a pout.

“You could’ve just _asked,_ you dork.” 

“I guess,” he agreed and tilted his head, eyes falling to examine the furrow in Suga’s lips. “I just love it when you get all excited. Might be my favorite thing.” 

Their eyes met and Kōshi’s mouth curved upward with fondness and amusement, hands reaching up to press a palm to either of Daichi’s cheeks. 

“You trying to make me fall in love with you all over again, Mr. Sugawara?” 

“Is that your way of asking me to take your last name?” His voice was muffled with the way his face was being gently and lovingly smushed. 

“Apparently.” Kōshi’s grin split his face, more amused than bashful, but still a healthy amount of both. 

“Now who’s the dork?” 

“ _Your_ dork.” 

Daichi’s smile went soft and warm and he nodded.

“My dork.” He agreed and then leaned in to give his fiancé a slow, lingering kiss, feeling in his bones what it meant to be _home_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :D Comments mean the world to me, pls and thank u. 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/SystemicWrites)


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